Laughter is the Best Medicine
by CatatonicVanity
Summary: A bout of the flu leaves Matt bed ridden and Mello... caring? What's this? -ONESHOT, dedicated to ginniiox!


**Disclaimer: **I no own DN!

**A/N:** So this is dedicated to my wonderful Beanie bro, ginniirox! I hope everything gets better soon and I'm here to talk to you, always! Enjoy this attempt at fluff.

**Warning:** This is written fast and not too great, and un-Beta-ed. Sorry.

Ten year old Matt lay in bed, rolling over with a soft groan. He grimaced at the feeling of the damp pillow beneath his clammy flesh and cast the pillow away, giving no care to where it landed. His forehead connected with the cool sheets and he sighed pleasurably, relishing the cool material. His legs flailed wildly, kicking at the thick comforter that his blonde roommate insisted on tucking him into that morning.

But Mello was exhibiting some form of care, which coaxed a small smile onto the redhead's face. When he and the blonde had first been shoved into the same room, Mello had been crass and cold. He never really hurt Matt, just intimidated and threatened him repeatedly.

And then one day Matt had gotten tired of the blonde ranting about grades and had slipped out when Mello went on one of his famed chocolate hunts (to no avail, Matt would later find) and Matt had slipped outside. The sunlight hurt his sensitive eyes, but Matt didn't want to venture back inside for fear of facing more people, so he tried to suck it up and sit under a tree to play his game.

A group of older kids had found him and cornered him, sneering and throwing about immature insults that meant nothing to the redhead, who had no problem exhibiting his apathy. He just kept playing his game... until it was roughly snatched out his hand. A certain blonde came stomping down the grounds, proceeding to beat the holy shit out of the bullies while profusely insisting, "The ginger is MINE!"

When he was done, he picked up the forlorn game console and pressed it into the redhead's hands, glaring and proclaiming that his actions did not make them friends. But his demeanor changed over the next few days, and by the end of the week, he let Matt on his own inside the room and kept him in sight outside the room. Roger had been rather stunned in his change of behavior towards his roommate, but the old man had no complaints.

Then, two mornings ago, Matt woke with a slight fever and some nausea. He brushed it off as nothing, giving in to the voice that cracked with strain from screaming so loud at his roommate. He'd refused breakfast, claiming not to be hungry, which was bought by Mello. When he got to class he managed to sit there and be alright for a few moments before shimmering heat began to roll down his body and prick at his skin, coaxing beads of sweat to break out on the back of his neck and his brow. He politely managed to slip to the bathroom and when he got there, he fell to his knees and rested his forehead against the cool tile wall. He stayed there for several moments; longer than he'd thought, because when the blonde came in to find him, he was said to have been gone for twenty minutes. Matt just sat against the wall, panting and trying not to vomit on Mello's boots.

The blonde knelt down and placed the back of his hand against Matt's forehead, swearing at the contact. "Shit Matt, you're burning up. You're sick; we need to go to the nurse." Matt groaned in some weak semblance of agreement and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He swayed on his feet and fell into the blonde's arms, causing the blonde to grunt and lift Matt over his shoulder, carrying his ill roommate to the nurse. Several moments later Matt was being situated in a bed and having a cold compress pressed to his forehead.

"Can you write me a note?" Mello asked. "Ya know, so I don't get in trouble for bringing him in here and not skipping." The nurse nodded and wrote a scribbled note, excusing Mello from class long enough to help the flu-ridden Matt get back to the bedroom. A grumbling Mello had carried Matt back to their shared room and helped him change, tucking him into the bed with strict orders to stay there until Mello said he could move. The redhead was sound asleep before Mello finished barking his orders.

Damn, Matt didn't like class, but he'd rather be in class than be this sick. These thoughts plagued his mind as he leaned over the edge of the bed and emptied the meager contents of his stomach. It brought burning tears to his eyes and when he fell back against the bed again, he groaned and rolled out the bed. He dragged his weakened body to the bathroom and stripped the sweaty clothes from his body, crawling into the tub in naught but his boxers. The porcelain felt so nice against his heated skin and he groaned at the feeling, falling into a fitful slumber once more.

...

Mello strode into the room, gagging and retracting at the horrid scent that wafted from the dark room. With his shirt pulled up over his nose, he entered the room and flicked the light switch on. When he saw the discarded covers he sighed and when he saw the empty bed, his eyes widened and he looked around. Where the fuck had his thick skulled roommate gone?!

The bathroom door was open and a long sleeved shirt in the doorway. A light snore drifted from within and Mello ventured into the room, sighing and glaring half-heartedly at the sleeping gamer. Then he turned the shower head on to lukewarm and sprayed Matt down with it, wiping the sheen of sweat from his body. Matt sat up with a yelp and sighed, reaching weakly for the faucet handles. Mello knelt down and slapped the boy's hand away.

"Warmer or colder?" he questioned quietly.

"Colder," Matt murmured, leaning against the white surface of the tub. He let the blonde hastily and awkwardly wash the sweat and dribbles of vomit from the redhead's alabaster flesh, then stood and stumbled to the bed. He changed into a fresh pair of boxers and leaned towards his bed, only to be directed away and to Mello's fresh bed.

"Don't you dare sweat or puke on my bed, ya hear?" Mello threatened in a quiet tone as he changed the sheets on Matt's bed, picking up the pillow and changing the pillow case. The dirty bedding went to the corner and Mello turned to find that Matt had pulled himself all the way onto his bed and curled up on the blanket. Mello rolled his eyes and tugged the blanket out from under him, pulling it up over Matt's shaking body. The redhead whimpered out a soft thanks that Mello brushed off.

...

"Hey Matt?" Mello asked to see if his companion was awake. The whole night he'd been conversing with his-dare he say it? –friend. When Matt wasn't fitfully sleeping, he was panting and sweating all over Mello's bed. But the blonde couldn't really bring himself to get mad. He just kept studying and trying to distract Matt from the illness that plagued him. Matt groaned in answer. "When you get better, are you gonna go back to class?"

"No. Why?"

"Just a thought. You're a lazy bastard." Matt giggled, and then grimaced. Mello stood and sat on the edge of the bed, stretching and looking down at the sick boy.

"Mello, don't make me laugh!" Matt weakly protested. Mello elevated his eyebrows.

"Don't you know, silly? Laughter is the best medicine." He said it with such seriousness that Matt giggled again and held his sides, squeezing his eyes shut.

"You know," he gasped after a bit, "that's biologically impossible?" Mello scoffed and his expression turned indignant.

"Well, fuck biology!" he chimed. Matt broke into another fit of giggles and turned his head into the covers, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. When he stopped he was gasping for air and hugging his sides. Mello just rolled his eyes at how easily amused his roommate was. "Go to sleep, dork," he said with a roll of his eyes. But when he laid down behind Matt's shaking body and got comfortable, he smiled at the thought of a true friend.

And biology could fuck itself. Laughter really was the best medicine.


End file.
